Journey, The (24 page)

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"I believe that's allowed once you're married."

Michelle laughed but quickly returned to a more reflective state.

"Have you ever thought about having more children?"

"I can't say I have," Robert said.

Apparently sensing that the question was more than hypothetical, Robert sat up in the bed and put two pillows behind his back. He put his arm around Michelle, kissed the top of her head, and looked at her thoughtfully.

"What's this all about?"

Michelle looked at him like a fearful child preparing to ask a parent for a big favor, a favor that she had no right to expect. She sighed and got the point.

"I've never had children, Robert. I've never been a mother."

He took a breath and glanced at the window before returning to his bride.

"I'd like to help, but isn't it a little late for that?"

"It's too late for me to have children of my own. I think that's pretty obvious. But I wonder whether it's too late for me to be a mother."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"I read an article yesterday about how social service agencies are having difficulty finding adoptive parents for some of the orphaned Vietnamese children who escaped on the boats. There are literally hundreds who still need homes."

Michelle stopped to gauge his reaction. She could see nothing in his face that provided a clue as to what he was thinking. That alone made her heart sink. She had hoped for a more positive response, but she knew she was putting a lot on his plate. Michelle put her hand on his face and directed his eyes to hers.

"I'm listening," he said.

"I know it's not the same as having kids the regular way and I'm not even sure we could get a baby. I'm sure most of the available children are older and I'm sure that more than a few have been traumatized by their experiences. I know all that," she said. "But I want to try, Robert. I want to look into the possibilities. I want to hold a child in my arms and know that I am the molder and shaper of his or her world."

Robert smiled but did not speak right away. Instead he got out of the bed and walked to a pair of pants draped over the top of a chair. He retrieved his wallet, pulled out what looked like a laminated playing card, and gave it to Michelle. A crayon drawing of a stick figure boy graced one side.

"What is this?" Michelle asked.

"It's a card Susan gave me when she was eight. I had it laminated last year."

"It's very nice, but I'm not sure I get its significance."

Robert grinned.

"It's a request, a request for a brother."

Robert grabbed Michelle's hand and kissed it.

"Having another child was not a practical option after Susan was born and it was not an option at all after Linda got sick," he said. "But it is now. If this is what you want, Michelle, then this is what we'll do. You've brought joy back into my life, more than I had ever hoped to find again, more than I deserve. Nothing would make me happier than to see you experience something I've always taken for granted. We'll make some calls today."

Michelle wanted to speak but struggled to find the right words. Even her many years as an English instructor were no good to her now. So she showed her gratitude by burying her teary face in the chest of the man who would become the father to her child.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She closed her eyes and drifted to a happy place.

CHAPTER 45: SHELLY

Unionville, Oregon – Friday, March 21, 1980

When Shelly came up for air from the depths of the Barracuda and looked out a window, she thought not of escape or survival but of humorous irony. Two Unionville institutions bookended the popular park-in-the-dark spot on Highline Drive: the South Hill fire station and the headquarters for the Blue Mountains National Forest. If firemen and Smokey the Bear were looking for flames to extinguish they could do no better than to examine their own backyard.

"You're laughing," Nick Bender said. "Is it something I did?"

"No. I just thought of something funny."

"Care to share?"

"I think it's hilarious that a hot make-out spot is situated between two places that monitor fires. My odd little mind is working overtime again."

"Your odd little mind is your best part."

Shelly raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, it's tied for fourth with your legs."

Shelly laughed. She didn't know if she liked or agreed with that assessment, but she conceded it was original. She reached over the front seat and turned down the volume of Nick's cassette deck, which played "Another Brick in the Wall," by Pink Floyd.

"I'll take that as a compliment. It's too bad that scholarship committees aren't as kind."

"You still don't have the money for Yale?"

"I don't have the money for
Oregon
. I might in June, when I get my financial aid notice, but I don't have it now. I hate being poor. It sucks."

"You're not poor, Shelly. You're lower middle class. Think big."

Shelly glared at her date, or boyfriend, or whatever one called someone like Nick Bender. He might be good at a lot of things but enabling pity parties was not among them.

"Whatever. I don't have a pot to dribble in. That's what matters."

"Cheer up, Princess. If you don't get your loans you can always join me at UCC."

Shelly gave Nick another dirty look. She considered a flippant reply but thought of something else when she saw a dark green Ford LTD pull into an empty spot at the end of the lot. It was Scott. She didn't know what bimbo sat in his passenger seat, but she guessed that it was Christine Tally. Scott always picked beauty over brains when he couldn't have both. She had no doubt that he had seen and recognized Nick's Plymouth, just as she had no doubt that he knew he could find her here tonight. Highline Drive had been their second favorite place to park.

"Is something wrong?" Nick asked.

"Scott just pulled up."

"Screw him. Seriously, Shelly, why do you even care?"

"I don't. I just wish he weren't here."

"Well, he's not
here
. I am. That's all that matters."

Shelly smiled sadly as Nick pulled her back toward his end of the back seat. She wished it were that easy to ignore the people in the car three spaces over.

Before long Nick was back at work. He had her bra off in a New York minute. Unlike the arrogant quarterback twenty feet away, he understood the technology. The problem is that he didn't understand limits. When Nick loosened her jeans and stuck his hand in places it didn't belong, Shelly squirmed and grabbed his wrist.

"No, Nick."

"Come on, Shelly."

"I'm not ready."

Nick pulled his hand back to a place it belonged and stared at his date. He shook his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm not ready."

"Well, when
will
you be ready? We've been dating a month. You've known me for years. We're not exactly strangers."

"No, we're not."

Shelly pulled away from his grasp and sat up against the door.

"Nick, why can't we just take things slowly? There's no hurry."

"Is that how you worked with Richardson? No hurry? I heard he had you in three weeks."

"That's bullshit. Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters."

"Well, I'm not telling."

"What's the matter with you, Nick? Can't you just wait?"

"Wait for what? For you to decide whether or not you want to get back together with your boyfriend? No thanks."

"Is that what you think this is about? I don't give a damn about Scott."

"You did a minute ago."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you haven't given me the freaking time of day since you said I was a better lay. Why did you say that, Shelly? I'd really like to know."

"I said it to hurt Scott. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No. I want to hear that you want me and not that freak show. I want to hear that you didn't use me to get back at him."

Shelly stared at him with puzzled eyes.

"Maybe we're not such a good idea, Nick."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe I rushed into this."

"Get out!"

"Excuse me."

"You heard me. I said get out."

"Don't tell me to get out. Take me home."

"Get out, Shelly. Get out or . . . "

"Or what?"

Shelly folded her arms.

"Or what, Nick? Or you'll smack me like you did Lori?

"Get out! Get the hell out now!"

Stunned, embarrassed, and angry, Shelly didn't wait for a hand to meet her face. She threw on her bra and blouse, glared at Nick, and got out of the 'Cuda. She slammed the door, walked to the back of the car, and glanced one last time at the LTD. Thankfully, she didn't see Scott Richardson laughing out his window. That would have been too much.

Damn, I'm getting sick of this.

Shelly walked west toward Buchanan, the nearest of two streets that connected to Highline Drive. Nick peeled out of the lot and headed east toward Adams, the farthest. In more ways than one, they moved in opposite directions. Shelly formed balls with her fists as she thought of the shocking exchange. What an idiot she had been to get into a mess like this. Nick was a jerk, but he was a jerk that she had welcomed into her life. She wondered whether there were any nice guys left in the world and, if there were, whether she deserved them.

The disgruntled Miss Preston searched for silver linings as she walked down Buchanan to Tenth, turned east, and began the final ten blocks home. She found just one. At least Nick hadn't dumped her at the drive-in. Then she would have had to ask for a ride or make a humiliating call to a friend without a social life. She did not look forward to answering a million questions from inquiring minds when school resumed on Monday.

Shelly picked up the pace as she crossed Pierce. She knew that if she moved fast enough, she could beat her parents home and head straight to bed. The last thing she wanted or needed was an "I told you so" lecture from her mother. Shelly looked at her watch and checked the time. Nine fifty. She had at least ten minutes before Fred and Evelyn left their poker party at the Petersons.

As she passed darkened houses on the empty street, Shelly thanked her stars that her humiliating trek through the chilly night was a solitary one. But it wasn't long before even that changed. She didn't get as far as Fillmore when she felt headlights on her back. She turned to see Brian Johnson stick his head out of the passenger-side window of his parents' Ford Granada. He was no doubt returning from his shift at Holiday Lanes, a shift she had originally been scheduled to work.

"Shelly, is that you?"

Shelly heard the doubt in Brian's voice and continued walking. Maybe he would mistake her for another ponytailed brunette who just happened to be headed for their end of town. But when he pulled closer to the curb and repeated his question, she finally answered.

"Yes, it's me."

"Do you want a ride?"

Shelly weighed his offer. Yes, she wanted a ride. She was cold and her feet hurt. But she didn't want scrutiny, even from the one male on the planet, besides her father and brothers, who had her best interests at heart. This was beyond embarrassing.

"Yeah, I do."

Shelly walked slowly to the car, opened the door, and sat next to her next-door neighbor. She put a hand to her forehead and kept her eyes forward.

Brian looked at her closely.

"Are you crying?"

"Yes, I'm crying."

"Are you all right?"

"No questions tonight, Brian. OK?"

Shelly looked at him sadly and put a hand on his arm.

"Just take me home."

CHAPTER 46: MICHELLE

Monday, March 24, 1980

Michelle smiled as she watched the disparate groups assemble in the bleachers. Sophomores laughed and roughhoused, much to the dismay of juniors who looked at their inferiors with barely disguised contempt. Seniors, those who showed up, milled around the gym with casual indifference. They had seen it all before. To them, pep assemblies were just another excuse to get out of second period and ponder better things to do.

From her vantage point near one of the emergency exits, Michelle could see several people who regularly popped onto her radar screen. All wore expressions that seemed perfectly fitted to their current life situations, outlooks, and attitudes, whether happy, sad, or somewhere in between. Michelle watched them closely as the pep band played the school fight song.

Robert Land was the most visible. The varsity baseball coach stood next to Principal Wayne Dennison, other spring sports coaches, and a microphone that rose from the middle of the basketball court. He wore the broad smile of a man who anticipated a good year on the field and off. He had been nothing but smiles since they had returned from Reno on Saturday. He seemed eager not only to head down different roads but also to resume familiar routines and responsibilities with a new partner at his side. Michelle knew from his comments at breakfast that he had looked forward to this assembly.

Scott Richardson was harder to read. Sitting with his baseball teammates in a row of folding chairs, he exuded the quiet confidence of a senior bound for a banner season. Michelle remembered his final year as if it had happened yesterday. Scott had not just bounced back from a knee injury; he had torn up diamonds around the state. He had led the league in hits and home runs as the Cowboys reached the playoffs for the first time in six years. But if Scott appeared confident and smug, he also appeared distracted and irritated. Every time he glanced at a corner of the stands, he frowned and turned away. Someone had apparently thrown him off his game.

Michelle had to step away from the wall to see Shelly Preston and April Burke. The best friends sat at the edge of the senior section, Shelly with her arms folded, April with a hand on her chin. Neither looked particularly happy. Michelle wasn't sure why, but she suspected it had something to do with the longhaired boy loitering by the main door. The attendance secretary had heard from students passing her office that Nick Bender had kicked someone out of his car on Highline Drive Friday night and done so in a way that drew a lot of attention. Michelle did not need a class of Mensa candidates to determine who had gotten the boot.